


Wreck

by Mellilla_Williams



Category: Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cigarettes, Crying, Depression, F/M, Idiots in Love, Older Man/Younger Woman, One Shot, References to Depression, Sad, Underage Drinking, age gap, but she's 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28691022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellilla_Williams/pseuds/Mellilla_Williams
Summary: Bethany heads down a dark path after the game but Alex finds her and saves her just in time.
Relationships: Alex Vreeke/Bethany Walker
Kudos: 7





	Wreck

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning for self-destructive behavior and nonchalance towards living or dying. Does not contain any self-harm. I also know this is a wildly different reading of Bethany than I've seen in most fanfics out there and also super different to my longer Jumanji fanfiction where she's happy and gleeful but I just had to get this out there.

Bethany was a wreck. She was a shell of what she'd ever been; not a single cell in her felt the same as before.

Noah had been actually _worried_ for her. Well, he'd pretended to, which was an accomplishment for him. Noah was the kind of guy who only cared about himself, his image, his needs, his everything. Cared to keep her happy enough to get sex out of it; do the bare minimum. But after Jumanji and after meeting Alex Vreeke, _the 37-year-old_ Alex Vreeke, she'd lost it. And Noah had asked what was wrong, _are you okay_ , can I help you and she'd screamed right in his face. He'd done his everything not to lose her because he'd grown comfortable with her and she was beautiful, and it was selfish but he really had tried. And she'd seen right through his shit. _Whatever, get the fuck away from me._

And he had. So had Lucinda, and Amanda, and Grace, and everyone she'd been friends with.

She didn't blame them. She'd become loud and mean, and so, so angry. She'd become reckless and sad, and gross, and she'd lost all the standards she'd held herself up to before. She had fundamentally changed by into this barely existing broken human being that no longer cared about pleasing other people. She wouldn't admit to herself but deep down she knew she'd gone too far off the deep end and no longer cared about herself either.

But that's just the thing. Once your in a bad enough place to realize there's no use in turning back, you wouldn't be able to anyway. Not on your own, anyway.

She'd also left home. Why not, it's not like life had been _that_ good for many, many years anyway. Not since her dad had left. Not when her mother blamed her for it and was an abusive bitch anyway.

 _Mother,_ the word dripped venom. What kind of _mother_ called their own child fat, disgusting, stupid, and so many more words, each day. Claimed that the reason _daddy_ left was because she was incompetent, if she wasn't so ugly and huge and stupid, more worth loving, _daddy wouldn't have left._

Bethany didn't believe it. She refused to, she was an independent woman, she was _amazing_ before and there was no way Thomas Walker had left because of _her._ Thomas Walker had been a piece of shit that had left because his secretary was twice his age and more docile than his wife was. Bethany had nothing to do with _that._

But still, when a mother starts calling her 12-year-old stupid and fat it has consequences. Hers was overachieving, straight-A's, obsession with her weight and eating no carbs; makeup, hair, skin always perfect. Popular, funny, social media queen. Hundreds and hundreds of likes on each post.

But she was done with it. No more pretending everything was fine at home, no more pretending she was a perfect creature. No more social media likes, no more fishing for her mother's approval. She'd given up having her father back years ago, and had done the same for her mother just after the game. What was the point? There wasn't one.

And she'd left home and she was 18 so the police could do nothing about it. But she was still in high school and she had no work experience, no place to go. She stayed on Martha's couch for a couple of weeks until she was thrown out by Martha's parents. Martha was so worried her grades had went down and well, that was the end of that. Fridge's parents were obsessed with their image and wouldn't have a strange girl staying over. She spent countless nights hiding in Spencer's basement. Spencer was pretty dope, didn't try to talk sense into her, merely let her exist in whatever way she managed to in order to survive. Sometimes he held her and kissed her forehead and they'd grown close like a brother and a sister and she was glad to have something resembling _family._

Bethany had taken full advantage of her fake ID. She'd gotten it when she was 16 to sneak into a club with Lucinda and now she used it to buy alcohol. His father hadn't left her much but had left her with a bank account with more than enough money to survive a few years even with her current lifestyle. Packs of cigarettes, bottles of booze and hardly any food sustained her and she felt like shit all the time but it was still better than pretending she was okay.

With how she was living she probably wouldn't survive until the bank account ran dry and she was fine with it, what was life worth anyway? She was useless and skill-less, and she couldn't have cared less about school anymore. She was smart but she literally just didn't care about it anymore. What would she do with a high school diploma when she was dead?

And so she stopped going. Each week she was seen there less, and eventually she stopped going altogether. Martha tried to reach out for her, so did Fridge, but the only person she really talked to was Spencer. And even then only to tell him she was doing her best. It was a lie, she wasn't trying to do well at all. But Spencer got it, he'd seen his cousin go down this road in the past and he knew trying to help her before she was ready to accept it would be useless. All he cared about was she had warm clothes and access to food and warmth and shelter, even if his mom was kept in the dark.

She almost passed out in the bathroom of _the beats._ Not because she was drunk; no, she was disappointingly sober, but she hadn't eaten in two days and it didn't take much more to make her head spin than a bit too much noise, and if a night club was something, noisy was one of them.

She stared at the mirror and couldn't recognize herself. Honestly, she couldn't even before game. The skinny, tanned blonde was a role she'd forced herself to take on, and whatever _this_ was, was a role too. She didn't know who she was, hadn't known for years.

The poorly done blue dip dye, the smudged makeup, the ripped tights, it made her look so cheap and the completely opposite of what she'd looked like only 4 months ago. But she felt numb and numb was better than exhausted.

She also looked so cheap she was offered drinks all the time. She didn't complain; money wasn't an issue but why pay when other people were willing to do it for her. It wasn't her fault if some disgusting middle-aged creep wanted to spend their money on her because she looked easy.

And there she was, sitting at the bar and surely enough a creep sat right besides her and offered a drink. She wanted vodka, and vodka she got. He offered her something else too and flashed a little ziploc-bag containing a single white pill, and she was going to say no, she really was, but then she heard him.

”Bethany?”. The voice was full of disbelief and full of disappointment. And she turned around with wide eyes looking for the source to confirm she wasn't hallucinating. And sure enough it was him, it was Alex, and he was looking at her like he'd busted his _child_ doing something bad.

”Alex”, she said with clenched teeth, and Alex looked at the creep with such rage that the other man was gone before Bethany could say a word.

”What are you doing here?”, Alex demanded to know. He noticed the state she was in, the changed hair, the black smudged around her eyes. The weight loss, the smell of old cigarette smoke and alcohol. She was wearing the same denim jacket she'd worn the day they'd met but it was now dirty and ripped.

”Like you care”. She hopped off the bar stool and started walking away.

”Hey, wait!”, Alex protested and grabbed her by her arm.

”Let me go”. Voice void of emotion but eyes stormed with it, he hated it.

”No”

”Fuck you” She wanted to mean it more than she did.

”Let's go outside and talk, yeah?”

Bethany had zero intention of actually talking with him but if she got outside she could make a run for it. Whatever misplaced worry he thought he had for her had no room in her life. She didn't want his pity.

”K” she said and they walked outside and he didn't let go of her arm before grabbing his jacket from the coatcheck. When she didn't grab hers he realized that the denim jacket was all she had but it was only April. The nights were still cold and she was shivering the moment they stopped outside.

She started walking away and he grabbed her arm once more.

”Hey, my car's over there, let's go”

”No”

”But you said-”

”Yeah, well you said _a lot of things_ and here we are. I'm gonna scream if you don't let go of me”.

”Sorry I didn't call. Here, take my coat”, he said and she allowed him to place it on her shoulders. She didn't want his pity but having a jacket that smelled like him was painful and amazing. Numbness kept her breathing but pain made her feel alive.

”What would your wife think of someone like me borrowing your clothes”, she spat out, voice dripping with venom.

”I don't have a wife, Bethany”,

”Your ring sure says otherwise”, she said, gesturing to his hand but noticed he wasn't wearing one.

”Oh really, at a place like that without your ring on? _Wow_ ”. The chuckle she let escape was poisonous and she started walking away again, still wearing his jacket.

”No, I'm serious. No wife. I've been divorced for five years. I'm in a place like that because my cousin's birthday is today”.

That made her stop in her tracks. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one for him too. He declined. Alex hadn't smoked in 15 years and wasn't about to start now but saw better than to tell her she shouldn't either. She lit the little thing and drew a long breath and groaned when she breathed it out. She sat on a bench on the side of the road and patted the space next to hers. It took him a while to do so because he was stuck for a moment looking at her, taking the current Bethany in.

”I'm listening”, she urged and he sat down.

”I was wearing a ring in December because I visited my grandmother in a nursing home. She has dementia and doesn't remember I'm divorced. I always wear a ring when I visit her”.

It sounded fake even to his own ears, no matter how painfully true.

”Wow, that's thick”, she spits out.

”I would never lie to you, Bethany”.

”You did. Twice! Before we won the game you promised we'd meet in the real world and-”, she couldn't finish the sentence. ”-And when we did, you told me you'd call. You didn't”. She threw the cigarette butt to the ground and lit another one.

”You're 17. Why would you want a 40-year-old calling you?”, his voice started to rise but he forced it down once more. Fighting wasn't the way. She was clearly _not well_ and he knew because he'd been exactly same when he'd come out of the game. He'd lost his old friends and had started hanging out in the wrong crowd, drinking, smoking, the whole thing. He'd been there and only now, twenty years later he realized how terrible it looked. And he'd been stuck in it for years, and he wanted nothing more than to stop Bethany from going down that path any longer than she'd already had.

”Because you're you!”, she spat out and stood up.

”I'm not Seaplane!” he said, voice raised, and because he was _him_ he quickly checked their surroundings, a part of him realizing what it would look like to see them screaming at each other in the middle of the town.

”You never were”. Her voice was quivering and quiet now, and she held herself in order not to burst into tears. She turned on her heels and headed back to the club and for however manyeth time in the short time they'd spent together he grabbed her arm to stop her.

”Don't”. It was his prayer, desperate and strange and filled with so many emotions he felt weak.

”I'm going back in. I'm done here”.

”No”.

”Why not?!”

”Because I said so!”, he screamed and she broke. She broke down crying and fell down on her knees and he was down in an instant and pulled her close and just held her. She was cold and hungry and exhausted, and she was shivering but she'd never felt a release so good.

What started with howling ended in small sobs, snot and tears running down her face. In the end she was just shivering and holding onto to his shirt, soaked through with tears.

”Why didn't you wait for me”, she asked hoarsely when she was done.

”I was scared you wouldn't remember me”, he admitted.

It made sense to her. In a world where nothing made sense, it did, and she believed him and grasped him harder.

”I love you”, she said.

”I love you too. More than you could ever know”.

And they stayed that way for a while, holding onto each other, quiet and hurt but hopeful.

”Come on. Let me take you home” he asked.

”I don't have one anymore”. He didn't ask about it. It wasn't the time for it; they'd have ample amounts of time later if it was hid decision. No one would take her away from him ever again.

”Mine, then”.

She let him walk her to his car and drive her away. She held onto his hand like it was the only thing keeping her sane. And she let her lead her to his house and to his bed where he laid down next to her and and let him lie down next to her and pulled her body against his.

They fell asleep in each others arms.

Morning came and she woke up and for a moment she thought she was dead and this was what heaven felt like. Strong arms wrapped around her and a warm chest pressed against her back, clean sheets and sunlight peaking through the blinds. Heaven plus a splitting headache left her happy but not fully content and then she remembered what had happened yesterday. And when he shifted behind her she turned around and saw him and god, he was glorious. He was looking at her like he'd seen her for the first time, like she was the center of his universe, and he smiled sleepily and his hair was all messed up but he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

For a moment it was perfect until she realized all the things her body lacked; more sleep, food, water, a bath, a smoke... And she shifted into a sitting position.

And she asked him if she could use his shower and he gave her a towel and some clothes. He reluctantly let her go but he also had needs; caffeine being the top one.

She emerged from the shower in his clothes and she felt a million times better even if the clothes were far too big on her. She was clean and had managed to scrub most makeup and grime off her face save for the last traces of mascara. He handed her a cup of coffee without a question.

The morning was quiet and calm and not many words were spoken. It was as if their souls had connected and they were just aware enough of each other that words were not needed. He cooked her breakfast and she ate it, carbs and all, and he was happy to make her drink some orange juice as well, not just two big mugs of black coffee.

Eventually she needed her cigarette badly enough and he followed her outside, not wanting to let go ever again.

He learned that she'd left home and had been living with Spencer ever since. She didn't say why she'd been in the bar the night before but she didn't have to, he knew it was what Jumanji did and what he'd done to her when he hadn't called and hadn't been there for her when she so badly needed it. He was glad to learn she was 18, not that it mattered in terms of _them_ but it would make a difference when it came to the rest of the world.

She cried some more, told him she just wanted to get away with him, no one else, just them. How could he refuse her anything? He got a week off work and called his father to take care of his kids for a whole week, told him that it was important but saved the details. Old man Vreeke resisted but Alex persisted and won.

And they got into his car and stopped at Spencer's house, and he watched her go through the garage window and just thought what the hell he'd allowed to happed to Bethany. When, if he had just called her, kept contact, she would've come to him for help and not stay alone like this, hiding from the rest of the world, trying to find beauty in destruction.

She may have gone inside from a window but emerged soon from the front door, a rucksack in hand, a proper coat on her frame and Spencer trailing behind her. He watched Spencer give him an awkward wave and he watched Bethany pull Spencer into a hug and he saw Spencer kissing her forehead but it was _fine,_ Bethany was _his._

When she climbed into his car they drove to the very outskirts of town and stopped at a small grocery store to buy food. He didn't say anything when she requested two packs of nicotine gum from the clerk and showed the ID he knew was fake.

Alex had a cabin a few miles out ot town. Well, it wasn't _his,_ it was his father's, but it would be empty and it would provide him and her privacy and shelter to talk and heal and to fix whatever he'd broken when he'd done nothing to stop her from breaking.

They arrived and the first thing he did was light the fireplace and turn the heat on. It was cold and he wrapped her in a blanket and turned the radio on so it wouldn't be so quiet. When he was done he sat down and let her wrap the blanket around both of them. He would never say no to touching her and if cuddling was going to pull her through, well, it was the best option.

They talked, well, mostly _she_ talked and he listened, but in the end she understood everything and felt less alone because he'd been through the same. They touched each other and kissed and kissed some more, kissed until their lips were swollen and he had blue balls and she was soaked through her underwear.

He resisted, saying they should wait but Bethany insisted that they'd waited long enough and he gave in.

They made love on the couch and they made love again in the bedroom and once more in the bath. When he was making dinner she came in and he made love to her on the dining table.

Bethany Walker coming undone under his fingers was the most beautiful thing he'd ever witnessed and he swore to treasure the image of it in his mind for the rest of his life. And Bethany? Well...

She finally felt _alive._

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is not how depression works. As someone who has depression I know it isn't instantly cured by reuniting with a loved one or having amazing sex. God, after over a decade I'm still searching for the cure. But this is a fantasy of mine; a man would whisk me away and I'd finally feel alive. It's a pure fantasy of someone who's mentally stuck at the age of 15 and I hope it makes for a good read.


End file.
